


this calls for a toast

by Frostandcoal



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: F/M, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 15:52:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11901021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frostandcoal/pseuds/Frostandcoal
Summary: Three years ago, Andrew Minyard threatened to kill her if she ever spoke to him. She hasn’t, but only because she’s had nothing to say.Until today.It's Katelyn's wedding day, and she's got a little something to clear up with her brand-new brother-in-law.





	this calls for a toast

**Author's Note:**

> Look, ilu, Andrew Minyard, but you were SUCH A DICK to Katelyn in that library scene at the end of TKM. You are the definition of a problematic favorite, Andrew. 
> 
> And okay, so, Katelyn is an athlete (tell me cheerleaders aren't athletes, I'll fight you), has dealt with all of Aaron's issues, is super smart and is going to be a PEDIATRIC SURGEON. You can't tell me she spends her whole married life terrified of Andrew. I refuse to believe that so I won't. 
> 
> According to Nora's extra content, Neil uses two favors to make Andrew go Katelyn and Aaron's wedding -- one of which is that he won't threaten Katelyn _in front of everyone_ , but there's apparently nothing about the two of them having a conversation without an audience (except, obviously, for Neil). 
> 
> Title from that Panic at the Disco song which I have not thought about in years but then a)came on at kickboxing today and b)popped in my head while I was editing this.

Katelyn stands next to the gift table, her face sweat-dampened (goddamn southern summer wedding and non-breathable silk dress) and her mouth just a little sore from all the smiling. Weddings are a lot like cheerleading, she thinks, but with longer skirts and a bouquet instead of a pom-pon. 

“I still can’t believe he showed up,” says Allison, sipping her drink. She shakes her head. “I owe Renee fifty bucks.” 

“Haven’t you learned not to bet against her, yet?” Katelyn teases, grinning over at Allison.

Allison, of course, is referring to Andrew-- who happens to be standing by Allison's girlfriend, Renee. She’s clustered with the other former Foxes in a corner, Andrew on the periphery as usual. 

“Hey, she doesn't always win, you know. And she gets creative when she needs to pay me back,” says Allison, who grins, sharp and playful like she’s on the court. “Let’s not lie, I have plenty of money.”

Katelyn laughs and shakes her head. “Must be nice,” she says, wistful. This wedding wasn’t expensive by any means, but they’d never have afforded it if not for Katelyn’s family and a student loan refund check.

“You’ll make big bucks as a doctor,” Allison assures her.

Katelyn doesn’t want to ruin her wedding day talking about the sheer amount of money it costs to go to med school, so she doesn’t. Instead, she reaches in and gives Allison a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here.” She made friends with the female Foxes slowly after their championship win; overtures in crowded basement rooms over cocktails turning into brunches and shopping expeditions, group texts and girls-only road trips to the beach.  

“Aww. I’m so glad I’m here, too.” Allison hugs her back tightly. “I will forever maintain you are too good for him, and you know it. But I’m happy for you guys. God knows what you went through to get here.”

“Thanks,” says Katelyn. She can feel Aaron looking at her across the room -- _my husband --_ and smiles at him. Aaron touches two fingers to his lips and winks at her, before they are both waylaid by guests -- Aaron by Nicky, his best man, and Katelyn by a few former Vixens, who bring her some kind of fruity, bubbly cocktail that goes down sweet and easy.

From the corner of her eye, Katelyn sees Andrew duck out of the banquet hall, through the door that leads to the back where she assumes he is going to smoke.  They are not due to cut the cake for at least twenty minutes -- that’s plenty of time.

Katelyn gracefully lifts the heavy satin skirt of her dress between her French-manicured nails and follows Andrew outside.

Three years ago, Andrew Minyard threatened to kill her if she ever spoke to him. She hasn’t, but only because she’s had nothing to say.

Until today.

****

Andrew glances at her as she approaches, the night broken by cicadas and the soft rustle of crinoline. She stands right in front of him and he regards her with cool disinterest, raising a cigarette to his mouth. He doesn’t look surprised to see her, but he wouldn’t.

Katelyn’s feelings about Andrew Minyard are complicated. She understands that his violent tendencies and his overwhelming misogyny are rooted in extreme trauma, and she was there for Aaron’s trial when he gave voice to the ugly truth of it, as removed from the horrors of his narrative as a robotic voice reading directions on a map.

Katelyn was also the one Aaron clutched like a lifeline afterward, his tears hot on her neck as he sobbed _he did it for me because he wanted to protect me, all this time and I didn’t know._ She understands things between Aaron and Andrew are not easy and never will be, better than maybe anyone.

But the truth remains that Andrew Minyard is also the man who threw her against a library wall and threatened to kill her, and that’s not easy for her to forget or forgive.

“Andrew,” Katelyn says, nodding at him. “There’s something I want to say to you.” Her voice is trembling a little -- even now that empty stare unnerves her, from a face so familiar and still so foreign --  but she ignores it. “And you’re going to listen.”

He raises his eyebrows and turns his head, just slightly, to exhale. She's surprised he doesn't blow smoke in her face, but perhaps that's too petty and therefore not worth the energy.

“You once told me you’d kill me if I spoke to you,” she says, as if he needs the reminder.

“And yet here you are,” Andrew drawls, his voice as icicle-slick as his eyes. It’s the first thing he’s said to her in three years. 

Katelyn was the captain of the Vixens, she graduated _summa cum laude_ in the sciences and she is going to study medicine in the fall. She is not going to live in fear of own her brother-in-law. “I haven’t had anything to say until now.”

Andrew takes another drag of his cigarette. 

“Here’s the thing,” Katelyn says. “You don’t have to talk to me. You don’t have to speak to me. That’s your choice. But I refuse to get shanked at the dinner table for asking you to pass me the fucking salt. Got it? I’m Aaron’s wife, and I love him more than anything but I won’t let you intimidate me. This isn’t your choice and you don’t control me. I’m not afraid of you.”

Andrew exhales, and Katelyn sees the hand that’s not holding his cigarette is clenched into a fist. The air sparks like fireworks newly lit, a half-second away from an explosion.  “You are.”

Katelyn’s eyes narrow. “Okay, well, I’m not going to let being afraid of you make me silent.”

“And here I thought you had to be smart to get into medical school.” Andrew peers at her through the smoke. “Are we done here?”

Katelyn puts her hands on her hips and nods briefly, like she's about to start a cheer. “Yes. No, wait. One more thing. Thank you for coming. It means a lot to Aaron.”

Andrew tosses the cigarette down and grinds it with the heel of his shoe into the gravel. She can feel the sweat on her brow, partly the humid Charleston night and partly her own nerves, and blinks as it runs down into her eyes.

The door opens and Neil steps outside, dismissing Katelyn with a brief glance as his attention settles on Andrew. “There you are.”

“I was having a chat with my brother’s wife,” says Andrew. “Her idea.”

Neil glances between them, as if he's looking for blood on Katelyn's white dress. 

“We needed to clear something up, is all. Hi, Neil," says Katelyn. "Glad you could make it.”

“Yeah,” says Neil. He eases out of the door and presses his back against the wall next to Andrew. The two of them look like they’re lining up for a firing squad. “This is...I’ve never been to a wedding before.”

Katelyn isn’t surprised. 

“We got you a gift card,” Neil adds. “For a present. Can I have a cigarette, Andrew?”  

Andrew reaches into his pocket and takes out a pack of cigarettes. He shakes two loose and puts one in his mouth, but instead of giving Neil the other one, he holds it out to Katelyn.

Katelyn blinks, surprised, and then reaches out and takes it from him. What the hell.

Andrew holds the lighter out for her after lighting his cigarette. She takes it and tries to do the same, but Katelyn smoked one cigarette in the eighth grade and hasn’t had one since. Neil eventually nabs the cigarette, lights it for her and hands it back without a word.

Katelyn feels ridiculous, a bit like she’s skipping school with the class delinquents, and takes a drag. It’s as gross as she remembers and she coughs immediately, but she doesn’t drop the cigarette or her gaze.

“Hurt him,” Andrew says, softly, “And I will kill you.”

“Andrew,” Neil says, and it’s clearly a warning.

“The ceremony is over and there is no one here but us, Neil,” Andrew says. He’s talking to Neil but he's still staring at her, eyes merciless and empty like a hawk’s.

Well. Katelyn is no mouse. She takes one last drag on the cigarette, makes a face and hands it over to Neil. “Same goes for you, Andrew,” she says. Katelyn is certain that she can learn how to kill a man and make it look like an accident in med school, should that become necessary.  “And you should both stop smoking. It’s terrible for you. You're athletes and at least one of you, your survival depends on being a good one.” It's not like Aaron hasn't told her all about Neil's deal with the Yakuza. She's glad Aaron is finished with Exy.  

“Just because I won’t kill you for speaking to me doesn’t mean I will listen to anything you say. Go away.”

Katelyn rolls her eyes, but the tension eases in her shoulders since it would seem they’ve come to some kind of understanding. Katelyn picks up her skirt so she can traverse the gravel without tripping. She remembers that day in the library and can’t resist a bit of a parting shot.

“I hope you two are miserable together,” she says sweetly, with her cheerleader’s smile and an exaggerated bob of her head.  She gives a single, sarcastic clap. 

Neil's scars twist as he grins at her around the cigarette, which is stained with her lipstick. Andrew touches two fingers to his temple in a salute. 

With that, Katelyn heads toward the door, chin lifted like a queen. Neil opens it for her as if he can’t quite help himself, and she doesn’t even say thank you as she goes back inside.

“It’s time to cut the cake,” says Aaron, when she winds her way through the crowd and back to his side. He smiles, eyes a little blurry from alcohol and his arm easy around her waist. “Where were you?”

“Having a cigarette with your brother,” she says.

“Funny,” says Aaron, pulling her a little closer and pressing his face against her bare shoulder, just briefly, before he lets her go.

She feeds him cake from her smoke-stained fingers. She can see it in his face when he realizes she was telling the truth, but he never asks.

***

A few years later, Neil and Andrew will be at Drs. Minyard for Thanksgiving dinner. Neil will be more comfortable playing with the dog than talking to anyone, and Andrew will perch silently on the couch and watch him. But they will sit down for dinner together, an acknowledgement that they are family even if they will never say it out loud, even if they are still too jagged in places to fit together as smoothly as they should. 

Katelyn will meet Andrew's eyes across the table and ask, “Andrew, would you pass me the salt?” with a challenge in her smile and the memory of a promise written in smoke. 

Andrew will touch two fingers to his temple, and pass the salt without a word. 

It's not much, but it's a start. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi I have a Thing for Andrew's two-finger salute, what.


End file.
